Chapter 10
“Damn.” Charlotte saton the edge of her bed and looked up. Drip, drip, drip. She groaned as she checked the ceiling and saw the stars in the night sky. “Not again.”
She slipped out of her room and knocked on Sam’s door, standing under the narrow portico between the casitas to avoid the rain.
When he greeted her, she waved, then pointed back to her place. “Did someone say they fixed the hole in the roof?” she asked, and he nodded. “Well, they either lied or did a very crappy job. It’s only drizzling outside, and it’s coming down harder in my room. That’s because the hole in my roof is large enough to see outside.”
Sam’s jaw clenched, and he grumbled. “The list of problems keeps getting longer and longer. I’m going to watch the crew repair that hole tomorrow morning. With the hurricane expected sometime tomorrow there’s only so much we can do before it hits.” He opened his door wider. “But please come in.”
As she strode into the room, he said, “Thanks for showing everyone what they can do with the canned food and other supplies we’ve stocked in every casita. That was a nice idea.”
Charlotte looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. “I had some great helpers with dinner so I had time to put a little something together.” She paused. “The ladies were really nice.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I was.”
She’d made some overnight oats that would be fine in the mini fridges even if the power went out. She’d also put together a plate of faux sushi tuna rolls with canned tuna, package rice and cucumber slices. “It wasn’t exactly gourmet fare, but if the storm stays for a while, it might start to look tasty.”
“I’m lucky to be stuck during a hurricane with an amazing chef.”
“They were not very cheffy.” She pressed back a smile.
“I’m sure they’re the most cheffy thing anyone could make with those supplies. Lucky us.”
“There will be fewer options when the fridge gets warm.”
“I trust my favorite chef.” Sam slid back in the bed then fluffed up the pillows on what would be her side of the mattress. “It’s all ready for you.”
Warning bells sounded in her head as she joined him under the sheets. She and Sam were business associates and friends. It was dangerous to feel so comfortable here. There was a line, boundaries she knew not to cross.
But maybe those lines and boundaries weren’t as rigid as she’d thought. She’d friended—truly friended—women today she’d believed lived in a different world. Did that mean that she and Sam...
No, not going there.
But she could still learn more about him tonight.
Charlotte grabbed two water bottles from the top of the mini fridge and got into bed. She started to hand one bottle to Sam but stopped and pulled her hand back. “I never got to ask you any questions last night.”
“You fell asleep.” Sam leaned back on his pillows and grinned. “Ask whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want covers a lot of territory.”
His grin widened. “I know.”
She smoothed her hands on the soft bedding. It was Sam Jacobson top quality. “I kind of think we’re in a bubble right now,” she said slowly. “That we can talk about things we might not normally talk about. And later we can forget all about it.”
“If you want.”
Charlotte nodded as a lump formed in her throat. “Why were you willing to pay me so much money to be your personal chef?”
“Because I wanted you. Why did you say no until I was willing to pay you so much money?”
“Because...” She shook her head. Not going there. “This is my question time.”
“Okay.” He tipped his head toward her. “Go on.”
“Um...” She nibbled on her bottom lip. There were so many things she wanted to know—sexy and otherwise. “Have you ever sexted with anyone?”
“Seriously?”
She sat back and made a face. “So you’re not going to share any information with me?”
“What do you want to know, Charlotte?”
“Who you are.”
Sam put down his water bottle and faced her. “I’m an incredibly busy businessman. I’ve spent the last 10 years developing real estate...”
“Geez, I can Google all that.” And she had Googled him many times.
“The past year has been rough. I’ve barely slept—working on some of the biggest deals in my career.
“The deals are done. Thank goodness.” He shifted closer to her, and his eyes lightened again. “But for the past year, my life has been work and more work...and you.”
“Me?”
“Do you really want to know this?”
Charlotte pressed her lips together, not sure how to respond, not sure if she wanted to know. Finally, she nodded.
“I hired you—paying you three times your regular personal chef rate—because I thought you made the best food I’d ever eaten.”
Charlotte nodded, remembering the first time they’d talked. The man was nuts. She hadn’t wanted to establish a daily, long-term arrangement with anyone—the commitment and pressure too intense with her other obligations—but she hadn’t been able to turn down Sam’s offer. The money she made from him as her personal chef client changed everything.
“I wanted to let you go—discontinue our arrangement—a week later.”
“What? Really?” She wracked her brain trying to remember what she’d made that first week. “You were unhappy with what I prepared?”
“No, the food was great, like always, but you were a distraction, a distraction I didn’t think I could afford.”
“What?” She sounded like a parrot, repeating herself, but couldn’t help it. “What was I doing?”
Sam scratched at his chin and sighed. “Living, breathing, cooking...”
“Sam...”
“Work was a bitch. Every damn day. Then I’d come home—to do more work—and you were there.”
“Why didn’t you let me go?”
“I couldn’t. I should’ve worked in my home office, but I couldn’t do that. Somehow watching you chopping, doing whatever you do in the kitchen, made everything better. And I liked that you hummed to yourself.”
“You liked that?”
“Yeah.”
“I wondered why you usually set up in the great room or on the dining room table instead of your home office.
“I would have made good on our contract.” He paused. “I know it’s been rough for you and your family. You’re an admirable person, Charlotte.”
A breath caught in her chest. “You know about my family—what we’ve been through?”
He nodded. “I hired you to work in my home. There were security and liability considerations. You agreed to a background check. It was in our contract.”
Charlotte reared back on her pillows, grabbing onto the headboard to steady herself. “I don’t remember that.” After getting over her worries about having one big client, she’d been damn excited. The extra money meant so much. But he knew that, knew all of that. “I feel really weird at the moment...like I’m more naked than I’ve ever been before.”
“Charlotte, no.”
Her chest heaved as her gaze darted around the room. “God, I wish I weren’t here.” But there was nowhere else to go.
“Sweetheart, there’s no shame in having lived in a shelter.”
“I’m not ashamed, but it was a scary time in my life.” She pulled in another tight breath. “I don’t like talking about it.”
“Maybe you should.”
For a long moment she stared at him. “No.”
“Please tell me.”
She never talked about this—not even with her mother and sister who’d lived through it with her. But Sam already knew so much, and he hadn’t judged or pitied her. Maybe it was time to share.
She slowly nodded to herself. “After my dad left—walked out—my mom couldn’t cope. She had no marketable skills, no work experience. She cried constantly—for months.” And there’d been nothing Charlotte or her sister could do or say that would make things better. “The first shelter we lived in was...not nice. And neither was the second. Thankfully, with the help of a lot of people, my mom pulled it together and got training to work in a medical office. We were okay, but money was super tight.”
She pressed further into her pillows and heaved a sigh. “I got a job at 15 working part time for a bakery.” She loved bringing in money. For the first time in a long time, the responsibility didn’t rest solely on her mother’s thin shoulders. “Turned out I’m good with cakes.”
“Sweetheart, you’re a fantastic chef, period.”
“Thanks.” She forced a tight smile as the pit in her stomach grew. “When I was eight, things were getting a bit better. I went to this girl’s birthday party, and she had the most wonderful cake. This is going to sound sappy and pathetic. I mean I was so grateful to have a permanent roof over our heads, but it made me sad that I’d never get a cake like that. So for years, I had the idea that if I had the opportunity to make fancy cakes for little girls who were like me, I would. We’ve made a lot of little girls happy these past few years.”
“You’re a success.”
“A small success. I still worry.”
“I get it. But maybe you can start worrying a little less?”
“I’m trying.”
“Charlotte. I’m glad we’re here. Not with the hurricane about to strike, of course. But I like that we’re talking, saying things we should say.”
“I was going to ask you about sexy stuff but we got off topic...and I thought that would be hard.” Who knew that ‘who are you?’ would lead to this? Sexy questions somehow seemed less intimate than truly personal ones.
“Ask me now.”
“Now?”
He nodded, and she shifted in place, sitting back on the bed and pulling a soft pillow into her lap. “When did you start going to Fantasy?”
“After you and I met.”
An odd chill shot through her veins. After you and I met. Nope, she wasn’t going to ask. And this question and answer certainly didn’t feel easier. “You know some of the women here.” The warm greeting he’d received yesterday from the woman in the pool suggested he knew some of them very well. “How well...”
“I’ve had sex with two of them, separately as well as together, but I don’t know them well.”
“Oh.”
“Fantasy isn’t about making real connections. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Have you explored all your fantasies there? They say that whatever you want, whatever you need, they can do for you.” Had those women rocked his world?
“Not really, but I expect that’s more on me than on them.”
“Why?”
“I was only looking for fun and uncomplicated. I liked the idea of safe, sane, consensual, anonymous, and Fantasy knows how to deliver. I was there because I wanted to get someone out of my mind. It didn’t work, and I stopped.”
Her pulse shot up. Someone... What did he...? Her palms dampened. Oh, she needed to come up with more questions. “Do you have a favorite sex position? And um...do you have a favorite toy?”
His eyes softened, the green suddenly less intense. “Aren’t you going to ask who I wanted to get out of my head?”
No. Her heartbeat jumped again. She wasn’t going to ask that. “It’s none of my business.”
“What if it is your business?”
“Sam...”
“It is your business. Completely your business.”
“When we leave here, we need for things to get back to normal.”
“No, we don’t.”
“We’re so different.”
“So what?”
Charlotte’s heart throbbed, and her mouth turned into a desert. They’d spent a year turning a business relationship into a friendship. Did he really want more?
Could she have more with Sam?
“Sweetheart, there’s so much I want to say.” He twisted in bed and moved closer to her. “But to answer your questions: My favorite position is whatever you want it to be. And I like any toys that will make you squirm and be happy.”
Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. Typically, they talked about food and work...and the weather. And they’d never discussed that one crazy kiss they’d shared six months ago. But he wanted whatever she wanted? He wanted to be with her?
“I don’t really have a favorite position,” she blurted and kept blurting. “I do have a little bullet vibrator that I’m fond of. And I think about you a lot—too much.”
“Charlotte, I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve imagined you in my bed. While your sleep shirt is fine, I liked you wearing one of my button downs last night.” He lifted a hand to stroke the collar and top button of her night shirt, then skimmed the side of her cheek. “I want to kiss you and keep kissing you.”
Before she could give herself time to think, she leaned over, her arms tight at her sides, and planted a firm kiss on his lips. She eased back slightly. “Starting with something like that?”
“Exactly like that.” He nodded, then took her in his arms and eased her head down on her pillows. “I also like it like this,” he murmured, leaning over her, his gaze shifting between her eyes and her mouth.
“I do too.”
“I want more.”
“So do I.”
He smiled and lowered his mouth to hers and gently brushed over her lips. When his tongue stroked her lower lip, she sighed aloud and welcomed him into her mouth. They were two tongues touching, teasing, tempting. Charlotte wrapped her arms around him, clasping the back of his neck to hold him tight.
His mouth left her lips and trailed down her throat, placing sweet kisses along the way. Her head fell back to give him better access, and her pulse raced as she enjoyed every spot he kissed. She slid a hand under his tee shirt to touch his bare torso, caressing the hard muscles of his abs and pecs. His heart raced too.
Sam groaned and placed his large palm over her hand. “I like skin to skin.”
He shifted slightly to pull his shirt over his head then moved to touch the top button of her oversized nightshirt. “This okay?” he asked, and she nodded.
Sam undid that button and then the next and the next, smoothing back the fabric as he went. His mouth went to her neck again, then her collarbone and then the rise of her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers slid up her torso to cup the underside of her breasts. Only an hour ago, she’d been in her casita and he’d been in his. Now clothes were coming off, and everything had changed.
“Oh, Charlotte,” he murmured into her ear, his mouth caressing her lobe as he spoke. The pad of his thumb skimmed over her nipple, and the tip hardened instantly. A sigh started in her throat and slowly eased its way out. He rolled the tip between his thumb and index finger and it got harder, tighter. “Do you like this, honey?” he asked softly, his mouth on her neck.
She couldn’t speak. Her mind was spinning.
“You need to tell me,” he whispered. “I need to know.”
“Then yes,” she stammered, nodding her head, unable to put together more than one coherent word.
When his mouth reached her breasts, her breath hitched, and she gasped. He cupped one breast and put the nipple of the other in his mouth. As his hands skimmed down her body and stroked her upper thigh, she tensed. “Relax.” He slowly traced the outline of her hip and gently cupped her butt. Her breath and his grew harder, deeper, faster.
He placed little kisses on her fingertips, then turned her hand and kissed her palm. A moment later, his hand slipped inside her panties and grazed her bare mound. She gasped as he moved above her feminine lips, and then he spread her wide. Oh! Her head pressed back on the pillow. He knew what to do. When his finger stroked her clitoris, she clenched his shoulders, willing him to go on. Yes, yes, yes, she murmured to herself.
He caressed her with one finger then two and then she could barely think straight. Her skin went from warm to hot, the most amazing sensations spreading through her body, starting between her legs and then shooting outward.
“Oh, God, Sam,” she groaned.
“Charlotte.” He kissed her fingertips again, then pulled off her panties before tossing his own clothes on the floor.
She gasped when he crawled up the bed again and moved between her spread thighs. Never had she wanted something so much.
Then she cried out as he entered her body. Oh, God. The pleasure built again as his thrusts quickened, and he whispered her name.
As her climax took over and her heart soared, she made a silent wish: If only this could be their new normal.